The Hybrid Luna birthright

Chapter 8

Brail’s POV

I sat on the edge of the heavy mattress, staring at the discarded tunic in the corner and feeling the weight of the crown I hadn't even inherited yet, while the persistent, cloying scent of the wine I had sacrificed my dignity for seemed to linger in the back of my throat.

The door groaned on its hinges, and I didn't even have to look up to know that Trad was strolling in with that effortless, arrogant grace he used to navigate every room in the castle.

"You really made an entrance today, Brail, I honestly thought for a moment you were going to challenge the Luna to a duel over a stained tunic, or perhaps you just wanted everyone to see that you haven't been skipping your training sessions in the Academy," he remarked.

"She would have died, Trad, my mother was looking for a reason to snap, and that girl was just a convenient target for a rage that has been building since the sun rose this morning," I countered, looking up at him and seeing the flicker of genuine curiosity behind his playful exterior.

Trad was my childhood friend and best friend, the son of the beta. And hopefully my beta one day when I become Alpha.

"I know she would have, and honestly it was probably the most unique and selfless thing I have ever seen a royal do in this pack, given that most of your relatives would have watched her get flayed just to ensure the wine was replaced with a better vintage," he admitted, pulling a chair from the desk and spinning it around to sit backward, his arms draped over the wood as he watched me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.

I leaned back against the bedpost, thinking about the way the girl had looked as she fled the hall, her presence lingered in my mind like a riddle I couldn't solve, and the confusion must have been plain on my face because Trad leaned in closer.

"Did you think it was right, though, because the council looked like they wanted to stone me, and my father didn't say a single word to me before he disappeared into his study with the elders," I asked, the doubt finally finding a voice now that we were behind closed doors.

"It was right because it was human, or as close to human as we get in this place, and you showed the pack that the next Alpha actually has a spine that isn't made of political alliances and old grudges," he insisted, his tone becoming surprisingly firm as he pushed aside his usual humor to offer me a moment of rare sincerity.

I wanted to believe him, I really did, but the political reality of what I had done was starting to settle into my gut like a stone, and I knew that every favor I might have needed from the elders was likely gone, washed away by a few pitchers of cheap red wine and a moment of impulse.

"You're being far too serious for a man who just saw his future King standing half-naked in front of the entire nobility, Brail, so maybe we should talk about the real reason you were so quick to jump to her defense," he suggested.

I narrowed my eyes at him, sensing the shift in the air and knowing that he was about to say something that would probably result in me throwing a boot at his head, but I remained silent and waited for the inevitable jab.

"I noticed her, you know, she has some very impressive curves for someone who spends her days scrubbing floors, and that skin is so fair and beautiful that it makes a man wonder if she’s actually made of silk," he teased with a suggestive hum that made a sudden, sharp heat flare up in my chest.

"She was terrified and nearly murdered, Trad, so if you don't keep your mouth shut about her thighs and your disgusting fantasies, I will hit you hard enough to make sure you never assume the Beta's throne,"

He threw his head back and laughed.

"Alright, take it easy, I didn't realize she had already claimed a piece of your heart along with your reputation, I'll stop the teasing before you actually decide to rearrange my face," he chuckled.

I stood up and paced toward the window, looking out into the dark courtyard and feeling the weight of the pack’s expectations pressing down on me, while the thought of my actual responsibilities began to eclipse the distraction of the servant girl.

"Is that why your face just went as cold as a winter tomb, or are you finally thinking about the fact that Princess Davita was watching you with the intensity of a starving wolf the entire night," He continued as he noticed the shift in my tone.

I let out a long, frustrated groan at the mention of her name.

"She was all around me, Trad, she wouldn't let me breathe for five minutes without reminding me of our betrothal or complaining about the quality of the lilies in the hall, and I honestly fear she is going to demand that she moves into the castle soon." I admitted, the prospect of twelve hours in her company feeling more like a death sentence than any challenge from a rival pack.

Trad snickered, leaning his chin on his hands and looking at me with an expression that was pure, unadulterated mockery, and I knew I was never going to hear the end of this.

"Look at the Alpha Heir, the man who saves damsels in distress and stares down the council, absolutely terrified of a girl who happens to be a little bit loud and a lot bit entitled," he mocked.

"I am not scared of her, Trad, I am simply exhausted by the sheer volume of her personality, because every time she speaks, it feels like someone is driving a rusted nail into my ear canal and I cannot understand why a human being needs to be that loud just to ask for a glass of water," I explained, the annoyance bubbling up in me as I remembered her clutching my arm and shrieking about her new gown.

"She is your future, my friend, so you better start practicing your ability to tune out the world, or you are going to be the first Alpha in history to go deaf before he even reaches his thirtieth birthday," he pointed out, clearly enjoying the fact that his own future didn't involve a marriage to a wolf megaphone.

"It isn't just the noise, it is the way she treats everyone like they are under her heel, and the way she looked at the servant girl today told me everything I needed to know about her heart, which is to say that she doesn't have one,"

"True, she isn't exactly the nurturing type, but she brings the southern territories and three thousand warriors to our border, so I think your father expects you to just grit your teeth and endure the screaming for the sake of the crown."

I turned back toward him, wanting to argue, wanting to say that I wouldn't be forced into a life of misery for the sake of alliances, but the look in his eyes stopped me, because he was in the same boat, bound to a life he hadn't chosen for the sake of a pack that didn't always deserve our loyalty.

"Why does everything feel like a cage tonight, Trad, because I look at the throne and I don't see power, I see a set of silver chains that are just waiting to be locked around my wrists,"

He didn't answer immediately, instead standing up and walking over to me, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder in a gesture that was more meaningful than any of the jokes he had made over the last hour.

"Because you're starting to realize that the fairy tales they told us as pups were lies, and that being a leader is just a fancy way of saying you're the one who has to make the choices that keep everyone else safe while you lose yourself in the process," he whispered.

We stood there in the silence, two heirs to a dying way of life, and I felt a sudden surge of gratitude that I at least had someone who understood the suffocating weight of it all, but then I saw his expression change, the warmth in his eyes being replaced by a sudden, sharp edge of anxiety.

"Brail, if we have to lead this pack, we'd have to do it differently, justly and right”.